


No Honour

by terrifier



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bloodhound's Ambiguous Genitals (Apex Legends), Fights, Gen, POV Wraith | Renee Blasey, Revenant Being an Asshole (Apex Legends), but thats it, smidgen of wraith/bloodhound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrifier/pseuds/terrifier
Summary: Revenant has been getting too comfortable at the Apex Games, too comfortable around his fellow Legends.But one day he pisses off Bloodhound and finally gets what he deserves.
Kudos: 25





	No Honour

**Author's Note:**

> dont get me wrong, i dont hate revenant, but he’s mean :(
> 
> also, ill be using their apex names for this fic rather than their real names bc why not

It had been a long day, that was for certain. She and the rest of her team had just won the last game, with Wraith herself picking up a total of nine kills, whereas combined, her teammates had wracked up twelve.

To say Wraith was exhausted was an understatement. That’s why, when given the opportunity, she had joined the other Legends at the nearest bar. It was a relief to not see Mirage behind it, messing around as he served drinks to pretty women whilst trying to simultaneously hit on them.

Only a few of the other Legends had come for a drink after the last match, those few Legends being Wraith herself, Mirage, Lifeline, Bangalore, Bloodhound, Rampart, Wattson, Octane, and surprisingly Revenant had shown his face. 

Lifeline and Bangalore were at the table opposite Wraith’s, both almost certainly tipsy at that point, but having a good time nonetheless.

Bloodhound was sat at the bar, they weren’t drinking anything, but they were engaging in conversation with Revenant, the only other person who wasn’t drinking. Well, he couldn’t if he tried, being a simulacrum and all.

On the furthest side of the bar, Wattson and Octane were also engaged in conversation. All of the items on the table they were sat at were floating slightly because of Wattson’s gear which she hadn’t yet removed after their most recent game. These floating objects had Octane going crazy.

Sitting alone at the bar was Rampart, the newest Legend to participate in the Apex Games. Wraith found her to be awesome, especially her machine gun whom Rampart had named Sheila for some reason. Rampart wasn’t exactly drinking per se, she seemed more interested in the bar tender. Wraith was pretty sure she was trying to chat the woman up.

_Danger!_

Bringing a drink to her mouth, Wraith rolled her eyes. She trusted the voices with her life- they were her, after all- but sometimes they showed no boundaries. She was in a bar with several of the other legends, what danger could she possible be in?

Mirage was slouched across from Wraith, glass of beer in hand and a goofy smile on his face. Wraith couldn’t remember what he’d been talking about so either he was waiting for an answer from her or he’d given up waiting. 

“Did you- did you just roll your eyes at me?” He asked suddenly.

”What?” Wraith replied, confused. Then remembered. “Oh, no, I, uh- the voices,” she admitted.

”Oh, uh, what did they say?” Mirage inquired.

The thing Wraith appreciated about the other Legends was that they didn’t think she was crazy when she spoke about the voices. When she’d first joined the Apex Games, inexperienced, traumatised, and suddenly wielding the ability to create portals, she had explained the voices as best as she could to her fellow fighters. 

As much as they didn’t get it, they didn’t look at her like she’d just escaped the looney bin. They did their best to understand and never judged her for it.

”Danger,” she repeated to Mirage.

”Wait, what?” Mirage scrambled to sit up right.

”Don’t worry, we’re-“ Wraith began.

Suddenly, shouting erupted from the bar, one familiar, heavily accented voice catching her ears. 

She turned her head quickly to spot Revenant harassing Bloodhound, two metal hands gripping their helmet, apparently intending to remove it. A mechanical laugh left Revenant, while Bloodhound forcefully removed the simulacrum’s hands.

It was a miracle they hadn’t cut Revenant’s hands clean off.

Wraith had stood up while all of this was happening, quickly followed by Mirage. From the corner of her eye, she could also see all of the other Legends rising at the commotion and some of the civilian’s (the ones who weren’t too pissed) stopping what they were doing to stare.

“Hound?” Mirage tentatively asked.

_Danger!_

The voice again, warning her. Did it mean Revenant? Bloodhound?

Everything had gone quiet, save for Revenant’s incessant chuckling. Wraith had already had a strong dislike for the simulacrum, but now they hated him. He’d always belittled and mocked the other Legends, ever since his arrival. Somehow, he thought he was better than the rest of them and he let that belief rule his actions. 

That lead to situations like this, but somehow this was different. He had tried to unmask Bloodhound. While Wraith didn’t understand why the tracker never removed their mask, she respected their decision to keep it on and hide their identity.

Unsurprisingly, Revenant didn’t feel the same. 

“ _Áttu engan heiður_?” Bloodhound growled. Wraith had no idea what they’d said, but Revenant still chuckled. 

“You think you are funny, simulacrum?” Bloodhound hissed.

Revenant didn’t answer, but he finally stopped his laughing.

”What, you can’t take a joke?” He flicked the lenses of Bloodhound’s goggles.

_Look out!_

Wraith listened to the voice and threw herself and Mirage to the floor just in time for Bloodhound’s hatchet to come flying in their direction.

The weapon had been aimed for Revenant, of course, but the simulacrum had managed to dodge before it hit him.

“ _Ég hata þig_ ,” Bloodhound growled.

”Hey, Hound,” Wraith drew their attention.

They glanced at her for a second, unwilling to take their eyes away from Revenant for any longer.

Wraith tossed their weapon back to them and they caught it smoothly by the hilt. 

They didn’t even wait a second before swinging at Revenant once again. It almost seemed like the simulacrum let it happen, the way he stood there as Bloodhound brought the blade down on his neck.

He disappeared in a swirl of ashy smoke, dotted with orange embers, and didn’t reappear anywhere in the bar. Wraith relaxed slightly, grateful for that fact and the lack of warning from the voices.

She relocated from her original table to stand beside Bloodhound who was staring at their axe.

”Hey, you okay?” She asked.

”I am fine, felagi,” they nodded their head, looking up at her.

”I’m sorry Revenant was such a dick to you,” Wraith continued, “I think we’ve all had run ins with him before, but he just doesn’t know when to stop.”

”Yes, he is a dick,” Bloodhound stated bluntly.

Wraith laughed delightedly. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Hound swear before. Not in English anyway, and, well, she couldn’t understand a word when they spoke their native tongue. She thought felagi meant friend, but she wasn’t certain.

”Yeah, he is,” Wraith agreed, “come on. Come sit with me and Mirage.”

”Thank you,” Bloodhound’s head bowed slightly then they rose it and followed Wraith back to her table.


End file.
